


Bloodthirsty

by SilenceIsGolden15



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo 2k18 [7]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Bullying, Fantastic Racism, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gen, Prompt: Undeserved Reputation, Protective Coran (Voltron), Self-Doubt, Team as Family, You heard me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-15 19:32:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16069817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilenceIsGolden15/pseuds/SilenceIsGolden15
Summary: No matter which planet you're on, bullies are the same, and Keith is a target for every last one of them.





	Bloodthirsty

**Author's Note:**

> I know this one just got requested but I was watching the dragon prince when it came in and Rayla's whole thing about being called a bloodthirsty monster hit me right in the inspiration so here we are.

As a rule, Keith didn’t like parties. But this one wasn’t so bad, he supposed. It still wasn’t his idea of a good time, but at least it was at the Castle rather than at some random alien palace. Here he had the home turf advantage. He knew the corridors, the hidden nooks and crannies, where to run if something exploded again. He still hated wearing the movement restricting clothes and being surrounded by dozens of people he didn’t know and who could be planning anything, but the added familiarity of the Castle brought his paranoia down to, say, a five, rather than the normal party setting of seven. 

Still, he did his normal laps of the room, sticking to the shadows so that he didn’t call attention to himself, observing and making sure everything was safe. The ballroom was currently full of tall, lithe aliens with camouflage skin-- a warrior race who’d spent the last three hundred years waging a guerilla war against the Galra who’d colonized their planet. There were still forty-seven of them in the room, just like there had been when he’d counted ten minutes ago. 

Towards the center of the room stood the leaders of the rebels, chatting amicably with Allura and Shiro. Honestly, Keith was doing these rounds more for Shiro than himself, or the others on the team. Yeah, he would probably prefer to be hanging out and goofing off with Hunk and Lance like he did last time, but that time Sendak had slipped in and, as aforementioned, blown everything up. That, and Shiro’s paranoia was even worse than Keith’s, and the only way he’d be calm enough to help Allura with the diplomacy was if Keith stood guard. 

So he did what he had to do to be useful for the team.

Over in the right corner Hunk and Pidge hovered with a couple tablets, showing off designs for some defensive weapons they intended to install for the natives before they left. Lance was in the other corner, chatting up a crowd of fascinated onlookers. Coran flitted throughout the crowd, darting from person to person. 

All present and accounted for. So he’d make another lap of the ballroom and then do it all again. 

“What are you doing?”

Keith turned, confused by the venom in the tone, and found one of their guests glaring at him from where he leaned against the wall. He was on the shorter side (though that was still four inches taller than Keith) and his skin was deep green with lighter tiger stripes lashing over his face. Flanking him on either side were two more aliens, both even taller and eyeing Keith with open hostility.

Keith let out a tired sigh. He was used to this-- there were always at least a few cold glances thrown his way at gatherings with other species. He tried not to hold it against them. The Galra had been their enemies for as long as they could remember, of course they would be suspicious of him.

“Just making sure everything’s safe.” He mumbled, half to the floor. All he wanted was for them to leave him alone and not make Keith screw everything up for the fifty millionth time. But judging by how the guy straightened off the wall and began to stride closer to him, that wasn’t going to be the case. 

“Oh?” He sneered, leaning in close. His buddies hovered just behind him and Keith flicked his eyes to each one in turn, trying to gauge how likely they would be to grab him if he tried to walk away. “Do you have reason to believe we might be attacked? Some kind of insider knowledge?”

“No.” He looked away from them, finding each of his teammates in the crowd just for reassurance. “Just a precaution.”

“Hmph.” The man sniffed, looking down his nose at the Red Paladin. “I don’t think I believe you. You’re the Galra mutt paladin, aren’t you?”

He flushed angrily at the words, but resisted the urge to clench his fists, not wanting to cause a scene at an important event-- again. 

“Yeah, he is.” Chimed in one of his buddies in a cruel tone. 

“Thought so. You can’t trust half-breeds, you know. Pathological liars, all of them.”

All three of them laughed. That familiar sick shame was welling up in Keith’s stomach. He swallowed it back as best he could and tried to look bored, but he knew he probably wasn’t succeeding. 

“It’s a wonder they keep you around.” The first man had continued with a false air of nonchalance. “Especially after what your people did to the Princess and the Black Paladin.”

Keith’s temper flared at the mention of Shiro, and he can’t help but retaliate. “They’re not my people!”

The alien didn’t look intimidated by his anger. He merely smirked and clicked his tongue, like Keith was a disobedient cat. 

“There’s that temper. Better be careful-- don’t want to lose control, right? It would be a shame if you accidentally hurt one of the other paladins.”

Despite his inner mantra telling him to ignore the asshole’s words and cursing their universal translators, he still froze at the implication being made, and suddenly the three men’s proximity felt a lot more constricting than it had the moment before. 

That wasn’t something that could happen… was it?

He gulped and took a step back. The men shuffled after him. 

“You know what, I take it back. I’m more surprised you haven’t already slit their throats in their sleep.” 

“I wouldn’t,” Keith tried to protest, but his throat had closed up and it came out pathetically choked. Because despite how hard he fought it, he knew they kind of had a point. His anger was explosive and dangerous-- it always had been, since he was a kid. And if he could lose control like they’d implied…

“I saw him on the battlefield today,” Said the third conversationally to his friends, “And I’m pretty sure I saw his eyes turn yellow.”

Without realizing Keith raised a hand to his face as he cast a frantic look towards Shiro’s last location, the pounding in his ears drowning out the chortles of his tormentors. He couldn’t be sure if they were telling the truth. They probably weren’t, they were probably just saying it to get a rise out of him, but there was always the chance that they were telling the truth, and how would Keith know, it’s not like he could see himself when he fought.

They were still talking, but he wasn’t hearing them anymore. 

If it was true, he couldn’t be around Shiro. Keith knew how hard he struggled. Even on his good days Shiro had a hard time with the gladiator and after most missions he had to spend several hours pulling himself back together. Seeing his best friend’s eyes change to match the people who’d tortured him for a year would definitely send him into an attack and Keith couldn’t bear to do that to him, he couldn’t  _ scare  _ Shiro like that. 

And did it even stop with the eyes? Would he start to turn purple like Hunk thought? Would he lose control permanently? Would he lose his mind? 

“I don’t think halfbreeds should be allowed to live.” The second man spoke up, piercing through the buzzing in Keith’s ears. “Too unpredictable. They’re a risk to everyone, really.”

“And you can never be sure of their loyalty.” Said the first with a sad shake of his head. 

“We’d be doing the universe a favor.”

God, he had to get out of here. He had no idea if they were actually planning on dragging him off somewhere, whether to kill him or just take their anger out on him, but even if they didn’t lay a single finger on him he could still feel the panic approaching, and he couldn’t panic around other people, the last time he had he’d punched the first person who talked to him and got expelled, he’d hurt someone, and  _ he could not let that happen again. _

Keith spun on his heel. If those men had wanted to hurt him that would’ve been the time, but they didn’t. They let him rush out of the ballroom without touching him, but he didn’t feel relieved for it.

His first instinct was to go to Red. He felt safe with her, and no one else could touch him there if he didn’t want him to, but halfway to the hangar a thought occurred to him and he stopped dead in the middle of the hallway.

He was proud of his position as a paladin, had been since Allura had first told him which Lion he was going to fly, but all of a sudden he was questioning what had merely a few moments ago been so solid. 

He flew the Red Lion. The fastest, but also the most unstable. The Guardian of Fire. 

He’d been compared to fire a lot over the course of his childhood. Fiery, feisty, explosive, dangerous. Fire didn’t stabilize like Earth, or grow like forest, or heal like water, or inspire like sky. Fire destroyed. It wrecked buildings, razed planets, left everything dead and silent in its wake. 

Fire had killed his father. 

He turned away from the hangar and starts for the training deck, only to stop again after three steps. Because his first instinct is always violence, isn’t it? His first coping mechanism is to go beat the crap out of something-- and what did that say about him? What did he do besides that? What was his role on this team? 

Pidge and Hunk and Coran were engineers and hackers-- geniuses. Shiro was the leader. Allura was the Altean Princess who had too many powers and roles to name. Lance kept morality up, kept them all from going crazy up here. And he… he fought. He fought and he flew. Things all of them could do. 

He couldn’t do anything. Couldn’t be useful, couldn’t fix problems, couldn’t comfort anyone or be diplomatic or even talk to his teammates like a normal person, for fuck’s sake. He only caused more problems, either just because he was Galra or because he did something stupid, and now there was the risk that he could be a danger to the others, that he could hurt the only people in the universe who might care about him.

God, what was he doing here?

“Number Four?”

Keith nearly jumped out of his boots at Coran’s voice, but didn’t dare turn around to face him after he felt the wetness on his cheeks. 

“Need something?” He croaked, trying and failing to conceal the roughness of his voice. Thankfully he didn’t hear the click of approaching footsteps. 

“No, I just happened to notice you left the ballroom in quite a hurry.” His voice was so cheerful, as always, and Keith could envision how he was probably stroking his mustache. “Everything alright?”

“I’m fine.” He couldn’t admit it to Coran. He had enough to worry about. “Go back to the party.”

A pause.

“Keith, did I ever tell you about how I used to look after the Princess when her father was busy?”

If Keith wasn’t in the middle of a downward spiral right now, he would’ve groaned at the notion of another Coran anecdote. As it was he just gave into his fate and shook his head. Coran didn’t seem to mind that he still wouldn’t turn around. 

“Well, I did. It was practically my day job rather than being an advisor. Which means: it’s not very hard for me to tell when someone is not alright, and even easier to tell when they’re lying about it.”

Keith let out a shaky breath and reached out to steady himself against the wall. He could feel himself cracking, the walls inside beginning to crumble, and he just wanted to go and hide before someone could see him being vulnerable and broken. But at the same time… Coran knew a lot of things. Random things and useful things. Would he know about hybrids, too?

He took a deep breath. “Uh, I’m ok, just… I guess I was… wondering something.”

“About what? Perhaps I can help.” 

He knew Coran was faking the cheer and humoring him, and Coran knew he knew, but he didn’t bring it up. 

Keith cautiously peeked over his shoulder. Coran was still a respectful distance behind him, frankly a bit ridiculous in his Altean formal wear, a completely normal expression on his face. He gulped and turned, bracing his back against the wall. He did his best to be surreptitious when he wiped the tears from his cheeks. 

“I… I’ve been wondering for a while, if you knew, about, uh…” For a moment he struggled for what word to use. Halfbreed? Mutt? Abomination that was never meant to exist? 

“Hybrids?”

Keith nodded sullenly, a bit chagrined that Coran had read him so easily. 

“Of course I do. There were plenty of hybrids on Altea, of all types-- Galra included.” He took three steps closer, and Keith was surprised to find that he didn’t necessarily mind it. “Were you wondering something in particular, my boy?”

“Just…”

Damnit. He didn’t know how to ask this-- he never knew how to ask anything, he didn’t know how to talk to people, what was  _ wrong  _ with him? 

“Am I dangerous?” He blurted out without thinking before immediately slamming his hand over his mouth in horror. Suffocating silence descended on the hallway, making Keith compulsively curl into himself. But Coran didn’t react, and when he spoke his tone was just as upbeat as before. 

“Well, you’re a talented fighter for certain, and frankly any teenager in possession of a bayard is someone to be wary of--”

“No I-- I meant to the others.”

“Of course not!” Coran’s answer is instant and offended. “Wherever did you get that idea?”

And suddenly Keith felt very, very stupid. He shouldn’t have said anything, he shouldn’t have brought it up, he was just wasting Coran’s time, and he should shut up about it but his mouth was running off without him again and he really needed to get a handle on that. 

“Um, well, you-- you know how I get when I’m m-mad, and--”

“Nonsense!” Coran closed the remaining space between them and dropped primly into a seated position, and when Keith dared a glance at his face his mustache was practically trembling with solemnity. 

“Listen very carefully, my boy. The Galra are a strong race of fighters-- some of the best in the universe. They are steadfast in their choices and intensely protective of their homes and their families. They are by no means animals, and neither are you.”

Keith had to hide his face in his knees to conceal the resurgence of his tears. Coran wasn’t deterred. 

“You lose your temper on occasion, yes, as do we all. Sometimes you’re reckless and give us all the scare of our lives. But you are also passionate, and loyal, and intelligent, and a damn good Red Paladin if I do say so myself, and your heritage only makes you an asset, not a burden.”

Keith was horrified when a hoarse sob escaped the vice he was trying to turn himself into, but Coran said nothing about it and briskly rubbed his back, making Keith melt just a little.

“Now then. When I was walking about the ballroom I happened to notice a few of our guests making some unsavory comments. Allura has asked them to leave the Castle.”

He looked up in surprise, but Coran was already onto his next topic. 

“So why don’t you go to your room and have a bit of a cry,” Keith’s cheeks darkened at that, “And get yourself comfortable. I understand the other paladins have something planned after the ball.”

“Ok.” Keith sniffled, and Coran gave him a bright smile and began to get to his feet. “And Coran, um, thanks.”

The Altean’s eyes softened. “Any time, lad.”

* * *

Two vargas later Keith was on his way to the lounge, feeling much better after the recommended cry session and a warm shower. The Castle was much quieter, the low hum from the ballroom having faded away along with the people. He wasn’t surprised when he found the rest of the paladins in the lounge, already in their pajamas with the projector they used for movie nights set up. 

“Hey, Keith.” Said Hunk as though they hadn’t all been waiting for him. “Wanna watch another weird Altean movie we definitely won’t understand?”

Keith smiled warmly to himself. “Sure, why not?”

He wound up on the couch, squeezed between Shiro and Hunk, and for the first few minutes of the movie everyone was quiet and he thought that was going to be it. 

Then Shiro slung an arm over his shoulder and said, oh so casually, “You’re the most loyal person I know.”

Keith froze. “Wh-what?”

Shiro’s shoulder shifted against his as he shrugged. “Just a thought that occurred to me. You’re loyal-- you stuck with me even when I was dead for a year.”

“Shiro…”

“And you care about everybody a lot.” Hunk chimed in before Keith could figure out what he was going to say. “If I forget to clean up the kitchen you always just do it without anyone asking you to. And I’m pretty sure Pidge wouldn’t sleep at all if you didn’t bug her about it.”

For once Pidge didn’t make an offended comment at that, which was the weirdest part of this whole surreal experience in Keith’s opinion.

“You’re not a bad guy, Keith.” Lance said softly from where he was sprawled out on the floor in front of the projected screen. “I know I tease you a lot, but I don’t think you’re a bad person.”

Jeez, even Lance was getting in on it. Keith couldn’t find anything to say, he was too surprised by the earnestness in Lance’s voice, and it distracted him from everyone looking expectantly at Pidge.

The green paladin huffed and curled up tighter in her chair.

“If anyone ever talks to you like that again, come find me.” She said, the light from the projector bouncing off of her glasses like an anime villain. “I’ll give them a piece of my mind. And my bayard.”

Keith laughed. Something was tightening in his chest, but it wasn’t painful the way it had been earlier. It was a nice kind of tightness. It felt warm.

Like a campfire. 


End file.
